


Forgetting You In A Cabaret

by AU_Queen



Series: Femslash February [9]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, F/F, Falling In Love, Femslash February 2019, Fluff, Lap dancing, Nothing explicit, Older AU, One-Sided Ilia Amitola/Blake Belladonna, Sappy Ending, Stripper AU, Unrequited Love, background ships mentioned, bodyguard!Pyrrha, brief bodyguard!Yang, brief stripper!Ren, night club owner!Coco, one-sided Pyrrha Nikos/Jaune Arc, only sometimes though, other dancing, stripper!Ilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-10-24 09:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AU_Queen/pseuds/AU_Queen
Summary: Feeling conflicted over her feelings about Jaune dating Cardin, Pyrrha finds herself in the club where he works. She tells herself that she’ll just grab a few drinks to forget her thoughts for the night. Then she’ll head home. But when one of the girls who works there comes over to talk and ends up giving her a lap dance, she may get more than she expected.





	1. Chapter 1

It's been a while since Jaune had started dating Cardin. And Pyrrha was happy for him. Oh, so happy. But no matter what she did, it felt like a stone was in her heart. She wanted to get over her hopeless crush on her friend. Nothing she did seemed to work. Why did nothing work? Pyrrha sighed, and held up a finger to order another shot.

She’s been in the club for, she checked her watch, a half hour already. Still, her mind swirled. Which was almost impressive, given the way the loud music thumped through the air to seemingly vibrate right into her chest. It would’ve been more impressive if she hadn’t been trying to drown out her stupid thoughts. Jaune was happy with Cardin. Her crush didn’t matter. A sigh left her and she downed the shot Coco had placed in front of her. Then she asked for something stronger. Coco’s night club was only a block from her place, so she’d walked there anyhow. Getting drunker wouldn’t cause any problems. In fact, it might solve some. Soft lights swirled low over the dance floor of the club. Bright lights flashed and stayed on the dancers behind her. Briefly she turned and glanced to the stage where Ruby was currently dancing with her scarves. On a different night she'd be up in the air. Yang stood next to the stage, arms crossed. Even with the aviators on, it was obvious Yang was watching both the audience and the stage. Though maybe it was only obvious because she knew the sisters. She wasn't even sure why she ended up here. Sure, it was close to home. But it was also the club where Jaune worked. At least it was one of the nights Jaune wasn't working.

Somehow that didn’t make her feel any better.

Coco had just placed a new shot in front of her with a worried look when someone sat down next to her. She threw the shot back. Then she glanced out the corner of her eye the person next to her. It was a girl with tan skin, plenty of freckles, and long brown hair. A sheer black shawl covered her bare shoulders. Deep red cloth clung to her body, really only just covering her breasts. It was one of the dancers. Though, she didn’t really recognize her. Must be one of the newer ones. Her gaze went back to the glass, fingers trailing over the lip.

“Hey,” the girl said to her and Pyrrha nodded slightly. “I’m Ilia.” When Pyrrha glanced back to her, she was met with a hand only a few inches from her face. She looked up to see bright grey eyes staring at her. With slight hesitation, she took the hand.

“Pyrrha.”

“Pyrrha,” the girl repeated, giving her hand a firm shake before letting it go. Then the girl turned back to the counter. She took a sip of a fruity drink Pyrrha hadn’t noticed earlier. “What troubles bring you here?”

Pyrrha blinked at the nonchalant tone. “Sorry?”

“Troubles,” the girl-  _ Ilia _ \- waved a hand, “You’ve been here for a while, just drinking. From my experience people don’t do that unless something is on their mind.” 

Pyrrha stared at her curiously, unsure whether or not she should be worried. This girl  _ had _ just implied that she’d been watching her almost since she’d come in. Or maybe that was just Pyrrha overthinking. Either way. It was odd. She didn’t like casting suspicion on people. But her mixed martial arts teacher had taught her to be ready for anything. Sometimes, suspicion was par for the course. And at times it’d helped her. Her eyes narrowed, “Have you been watching me?”

The girl blushed deeply. “Kinda? Sorry, it’s habit. Don’t want to make you feel terrible, but I’ve been doing this,” the girl waved around them, “for a while now. Keeping an eye out for people who may need to be distracted is kinda instinct by this point. Least, on the job it is.”

Pyrrha nodded. Okay, she could understand that.

“So, you want to tell me what’s troubling you?”

For a good minute Pyrrha debated. Then, she figured why not? It’s not like the girl knew her. And it might help to get it out. Finally set her thoughts and emotions straight. As they should be. She took a breath. Opened her mouth. Paused when she realized that she didn’t really know how to explain this. Her brows furrowed. After a second, she felt a hand settle over hers and looked down before glancing back to Ilia. Ilia smiled at her encouragingly. “I’m not really sure what to say,” Pyrrha finally admitted. “I still haven’t even worked it out myself.”

“That’s okay,” Ilia assured. Somehow, that helped. Pyrrha took another breath.

“There was this boy…” she started. Ilia nodded to show she was listening. Pyrrha smiled slightly. The hand still hadn’t been removed and Pyrrha didn’t move hers. Warmth spread further when Ilia adjusted her hand slightly to better cup Pyrrha’s hand in her own. “I really liked him. But… he didn’t. Well, he did. Just not in the same way. I guess, I knew that. But there was still a hope that he might one day actually like me back. But now he’s dating someone else, and I wanna be happy for him. I think I am? It’s just… hard.” Pyrrha admitted slowly, and Ilia nodded in understanding. For some reason, Pyrrha felt like the other girl really  _ did _ understand. “I just want to forget about him.”

“Well,” Ilia trailed off, and removed her hand from Pyrrha’s. There was barely a second for Pyrrha to notice the sudden cold when Ilia moved closer, “I almost feel bad suggesting this, but I could give you a lap dance? It’d be a better way to forget than getting so drunk you can’t even get home.” The girl hesitated a second before she added, “And it’ll be free. I get where you’re coming from so, well this is the least I can do.” And she shrugged.

Pyrrha thought over the offer. The girl seemed genuine. It must have been all the alcohol, because after a second more Pyrrha found herself nodding. Then, without any hesitation, the girl was off her seat. She turned Pyrrha’s stool so Pyrrha’s back was to the bar. And then she gave Pyrrha the first lap dance she’d ever had.

It ended with Ilia sitting in Pyrrha’s lap. A weird feeling bloomed in Pyrrha’s chest. One that bubbled up until it finally escaped as a laugh. Ilia joined her after a moment. Before long both girls were giggling against each other. Pyrrha fought to speak between hers, “I can’t believe I let a stranger give me a lap dance. I must be drunker than I thought.” Some tears streaked down her cheeks.

“You’re not the only surprised one. I don’t think I’ve ever given a freebie before. Except to-” she cut herself off, sobering suddenly. The change was like a clap of thunder during complete silence to Pyrrha. Ilia removed Pyrrha’s hands from her hips -when’d she put them there?- and stood. “This has been fun, but I should go.”

There was something there. Sadness, resignation. It was in Ilia’s eyes. Pyrrha frowned. “What is it?”

Ilia gave a forced smile, and shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just my shift on stage.” Pyrrha glanced behind her to the stage. The house lights had been turned even lower, with one spotlight on Weiss. The music had gotten softer, only instrumentals now to accompany Weiss’ singing. Soon she’d start to dance along, slowly weaving through the audience. It was an obvious lie, if you knew the Coco’s club well. And Pyrrha did. But she didn’t move to correct Ilia. And soon the girl had disappeared into the crowd.

There was a weird pounding in Pyrrha’s chest, and a sense of loss. She ignored it. Instead she got Coco’s attention so she could leave and say a goodbye. Then she wrapped her coat around her shoulders and left.

Oddly, the walk felt colder than normal.

 

It was two days later when Pyrrha walked back to Coco’s club. There was someone already at the bar. Well, many someones. There almost always were. But as she walked closer she spotted someone she recognized. Even if it was only the back of her head. But Pyrrha had mentally repeated Ilia walking away enough times in the past two days that she could recognize that long brown hair. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she realized Ilia was on the same stool as last time. She sat down next to her.

For a moment she just looked at Ilia. This time the girl only wore black. It was something simple and pleasing to the eye. Finally, Pyrrha asked “What troubles bring you here?”

Ilia turned to her. There’s a flash of surprise in her eyes. But it quickly got replaced by that same sad look she’d had last time Pyrrha saw her. Right before she walked away. Pyrrha had thought about that look a lot as well. She wasn’t sure why she was so against Ilia looking sad. Though, her mom had always told her she had a kind soul.

“Isn’t that my line?” Ilia asked her. Pyrrha shrugged sheepishly in response. It caused the corner of Ilia’s mouth to quirk up into a half smile. Not forced, like the last time. The girl sighed, “Why are you here?”

“Sorry?” Pyrrha frowned questioningly at her.

“Don’t get me wrong, you can come here whenever you want. But here, talking to me? Why?” Ilia sighed.

“Do I have to have a reason?” Pyrrha asked. Ilia looked at her pointedly, and gestured to her outfit. Right. “It’s not for anything like that. You just… you seemed sad last time. And you listened to my troubles. I figured it’d only be fair if I did the same.”

Ilia sighed again, but nodded.

“So?” Pyrrha encouraged.

“You’re not the first person I’ve given a free dance to,” Ilia started, and Pyrrha nodded. She remembered her mentioning that. “The last person I gave one to was my crush.  _ Major _ crush. Hell, I’m sure I probably loved her. I,” Ilia trailed off and her eyes looked pained. Pyrrha took her hand. Flashed her a reassuring smile. It seemed to help, because Ilia continued with a grateful look. “I told her. Asked her out. She started to date someone else, though. And she’s  _ happy _ . I  _ want _ her to be  _ happy _ . And she is. But no matter what I do, I can’t be. Instead I just remember. I’m with you. It hurts like hell.”

“I’m sorry,” Pyrrha said honestly.

“Why are you sorry?” Ilia asked with a sort-of-laugh. Something that wasn’t truly a laugh. More of a huff of air. “You didn’t do it.”

Pyrrha shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m still sorry. You seem great. I’m surprised she said no.”

“You don’t even know me,” Ilia said curiously.

That was true. Still, Pyrrha didn’t feel like she really needed to. Despite her optimism. And how she tried to see good in everyone, something her teacher used to berate her for, she was normally a fairly good judge of character. Another thing that likely come from her teacher’s classes. But she didn’t want to say any of that. There was still sadness in Ilia’s eyes, and Pyrrha wanted that to go away. Almost desperately. That’s the only reason she could think of for asking, “Would you like a lap dance?”

Ilia’s eyes widened, and she could feel it as her own did the same. A sudden heat rushed through her. Quickly, she stammered, “I mean- If you want- I wouldn’t do it well- Definitely not as well as you-” She likely would’ve continued just rambling there for hours had Ilia not cut her off with a loud laugh. Pyrrha’s teeth clicked together as she shut her mouth. The laughter rang in her ears, and continued. Like it was an infectious disease, Pyrrha found herself joining in. They calm after likely minutes of laughing together. The warmth that had flowed her settled comfortably in her stomach. Then it fluttered slightly when Ilia smiled at her. There was a flush on Ilia’s cheeks, tears in the corner of her eyes. 

Silence followed as they calmed further. It was a comfortable silence. But there was also a weird tension in it. Like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Before Pyrrha could learn what it was, Coco called Ilia’s name.

This time when Ilia left, her eyes were happy. Pyrrha smiled at it. That was better.

 

The next night found Pyrrha back in the night club. This time it wasn’t to find anyone, though. She adjusted the suit she wore, and stepped up to the stage. Ren was on. His arms and hips swayed flawlessly with the music. A smile quirked her lips when he looked down at her and winked.

For a while Pyrrha stood there, half watching Ren belly dance and half watching the audience. No matter how many time she watched Ren, it never got old. Really, that went for all of the workers. They had a way of making each show unique. It really sucked everyone in. Her eyes made another pass of the audience, and she nodded to some of the patrons she recognized. Each nodded back before their eyes returned to Ren.

A hand on her shoulder jolted her. She hadn’t heard anyone come up behind her. Which was odd, she was normally hyper aware of her surroundings. When Ilia moved into her field of view with an apologetic smirk, she calmed.

“Are you stalking me?” Ilia asked with an amused lilt to her voice.

“I’m working,” Pyrrha shook her head.

“Working?” Ilia raised an eyebrow.

“Coco called me,” Pyrrha clarified with a shrug. “I fill in for bouncers when they have to take off.” Though, when Coco had called her earlier that day to tell her one of the bouncers was sick she had an odd tone. Like there was something she had planned. What it was, Pyrrha didn’t know. It was hard to ever know with Coco. Especially if Velvet was in on it. Those two were trouble together.

Ilia nodded in understanding.

They stood there in silence. Pyrrha took in Ilia’s outfit for the night. It was something similar to what Ren wore. Loose pants and a tube top with bracelets with long strips of fabric attached around her upper arms. The outfit was all light pink, contrasting Ren’s deep green.

“So you’re a belly dancer?” Pyrrha questioned.

Ilia shrugged a shoulder. “Normally. Sometimes I do other things.” The girl winked, eyes twinkling, and Pyrrha felt heat raise to her cheeks. “Like giving out lap dances.” They shared a laugh.

Ren’s show went on. They stood there together, watching him. Though Pyrrha wasn't sure what she watched the most. Ren, the audience, or Ilia. The girl’s eyes sparkled under the lights. Slowly, the music faded out. Everything was silent as Ren bowed and walked off the stage.

“Looks like it’s my turn,” Ilia said with a smile and walked onto the stage. Pyrrha was immediately taken in by how the girl moved. Every gesture was confident. It was a dance of someone who knew the whole room was looking at them, and was comfortable in that. If Pyrrha thought her eyes sparkled earlier, it held nothing to them now. As she moved, the lights caused different colours to swirl within the grey irises.

Only a few seconds had gone by when Ilia’s set was over. Pyrrha shook herself from whatever trance she'd fallen under. From the stage, Ilia smiled at her and winked. Her cheeks flushed and Pyrrha looked away, embarrassed. Partly at being caught. And partly at being so distracted. If anything had happened while her mind was elsewhere, Pyrrha never would've forgiven herself. Behind the counter, Coco looked at her knowingly.

Why, she wasn't sure.

 

Coco had called her in again three days later. This time Pyrrha was sure she was up to something. Especially when she walked in to see Ilia already working the stage.

Colours from the lights swirled beautifully in Ilia’s eyes. Her golden outfit shimmered and shone as she swayed. The way she moved to the music was hypnotizing. Hips shimming, hands swirling. A sheer, red skirt flowed out when she spun. Slow and purposeful. It was a dance to seduce. To capture someone’s full attention, and never let go. Ilia turned her way. For a second they locked eyes. Then she circled away. The skirt swirled out. Swayed with her hips. Everything was in time to the music. A step forward and her undulated back and forth. Light glinted off a silver anklet. Her feet were bare. Tan skin glided along the floor.

“Pyrrha?” Yang’s voice sounded next to her. Pyrrha took in a breath. “You okay? You've been standing there unblinking for like, a full minute.”

So that was why her lungs burned just slightly. Apparently during that whole minute, she hadn't breathed. She did so again now. Then she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Yang was hovering over her. Eyes worried. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

Yang looked at her with a disbelieving look. 

“I'm  _ fine _ ,” Pyrrha repeated, avoiding looking back to the stage. “What are you doing here, anyway? Coco called to say you were sick.”

“I'm not.” Yang frowned. Then she brightened dangerously, eyes flashing in that way they had a habit of doing. She glanced back to the stage, and Pyrrha’s eyes followed before she could stop it. The music had reached the end. Ilia stood there, on the stage, arms raised and chest heaving. She stood frozen as the music fades out completely. Then she stepped off the stage. Yang cleared her throat, and Pyrrha looked back at her. The smile Yang have her was knowing. Knowing and sharp. She waggled her eyebrows, “I think I know what happened.”

Pyrrha frowned. When Yang gestured back to the stage, Pyrrha scoffed. But a warmth had risen to her cheeks. She could feel it. “You can't tell me you don't find her cute,” Yang purred. Instead of answering, Pyrrha left to say hi to Ilia. The whole way there she could feel Yang’s eyes on her back. They felt smug. She tried to ignore it. A feat made easier by Ilia’s presence. The girl was magnetizing. Magnetizing in a way that reminded her of Jaune.

Yang was right.

On her way over to Ilia, she caught Coco’s eyes. She gave her the same knowing look Yang had. So Coco  _ had _ planned something. That didn’t really surprise her. Coco always had a plan.

“Hey.” Pyrrha gently touched Ilia’s shoulder. Ilia turned to her, and smiled. A full smile- eyes lighting up. The girl was no longer under the lights. But with the way her eyes glowed, Pyrrha almost looked up just to be sure.

“Hey.” Ilia said. “Working again, or here for pleasure?”

“Actually, I’m not sure,” Pyrrha admitted. When Ilia frowned at her, she elaborated. “Coco called me in to replace Yang, but Yang’s here.”

Ilia nodded in understanding, and glanced over Pyrrha’s shoulder to Yang. Pyrrha turned to follow her gaze in time to see Yang wave at them. She smiled awkwardly in return. “So, pleasure,” Ilia said. Immediately Pyrrha felt her cheeks heat again, and shrugged. Hopefully the room was dim enough where they were that Ilia wouldn’t notice. Just incase, Pyrrha kept her eyes on Yang. Just long enough to force the blush down. When she looked back she didn’t meet Ilia’s eyes. If Ilia noticed, she didn’t say anything. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

That caused Pyrrha to give an awkward chuckle. She finally looked in Ilia’s eyes. They were pleasant, not judging. Only teasing, matching the small smirk Ilia wore. Pyrrha smiled. When Ilia held her arm out, Pyrrha took it.

“To the bar?” Ilia asked.

“Yes.”

Ilia led her to the seats they always seemed to occupy. Before they ordered anything, two drinks were set in front of them. There wasn’t anything they could say before Coco winked and walked away. Pyrrha looked to Ilia in confusion, but the girl just smiled sheepishly and shrugged. Which was odd. Except when Ilia had told her about her own crush, she’d never seemed anything less than confident. But now, she almost seemed… shy. Something was there. A question, right on the tip of Pyrrha’s tongue. Whatever it was didn’t come to her. So she didn’t ask it. Instead they just sat together, talking quietly. Music thumping around them. Background noise.

It was comfortable. For a long while. They just sat there, drinking. Then Illia said something that caused Pyrrha to laugh. She turned to see Ilia watching her with a soft smile. Her eyes shone brightly, grey like stars. Suddenly the tension from a few days ago was back. The world holding its breath. Waiting for something. For a second Pyrrha wondered if she’d learn what it was this time. Or if the moment would be interrupted again. It wasn’t.

This time Ilia moved in. Pyrrha’s heart speed up to double time and she suddenly felt she knew what the world waited for. Why it held its breath. Ilia got closer. She felt her breath stutter the smallest amount. When their lips met, Pyrrha's breath hitched. Her body froze. Surprise locking everything up. The kiss only lasted a second. A brief meeting of lips. It was over was soon as it started. Then Ilia moved, apologized, and ran. For a second Pyrrha just sat there. Her heart still pounded. Whether from lingering surprise or the kiss, she didn’t know. It had suddenly become hard to think. Everything seemed almost far away. She swiped her tongue over her lips, catching a lingering taste from the drink Ilia had. Her eyes moved to where Ilia had run off to. The employees room. The music bled back in, no longer background noise. After a moment Pyrrha sighed and left. 

She didn’t chase after her.

Didn’t ask any questions.

Just left.

_ Why? _

 

For a week after that, Pyrrha returned to the bar. Everyday at the same time. A lot of the time Ilia wasn’t there. And when she was, she was either on the stage or in the back. The girl seemed to be avoiding her. And Pyrrha couldn't blame her. If she had kissed Jaune and he'd remained unmoving, she probably would've avoided him for weeks. Worried she had done something wrong. Which, from what she could tell, was exactly what had happened here. Pyrrha had been so surprised, that she remained motionless. Now Ilia was worried she had been wrong. Worried what she did was wrong. Pyrrha had to find Ilia and tell her that she wasn't. She wasn't wrong.

Or was she? Pyrrha paused. They had only known each other a few days. Yet, she had this feeling from her. The same feeling Jaune once gave her. Once. When had her feelings for him finally faded? It seemed strange. At the time they had felt so strong. But when she turned to the stage, and watched Ilia dance. Even from far away there was something there. Stronger than what she felt for Jaune. She had always believed in destiny. Ilia coming and sitting with her that first night felt like it. Finding Ilia again, at those seats, when she was at her low point, felt like it. Working the next night, and talking to Ilia again, felt like it. Ilia felt like it. Like destiny.

And destiny seemed to still be with Pyrrha. Just as it had always been.


	2. Chapter 2

A week passed. For a day, Pyrrha was able to convince herself not to go to the club. The next day she walked there again. She had to apologize. Apologize for not reacting. Not responding. Not following after. Apologize for everything. Even if she didn’t think Ilia would forgive her.

Even though she knew the chance for whatever they could’ve had was likely lost now.

The hope it wasn’t led her back. And right into the person she desired to see the most.

They ran into each other only seconds after Pyrrha had stepped into the club. She took a step back, and rubbed her arm where it had collided with a person. A person she knew with just a glance was Ilia. It was the closest she’d been to her in a little over a week. Suddenly, it felt longer.

“I’m sorry,” Ilia said as she looked up. The first words Pyrrha had heard from her in too long. She treasured those few seconds between words and Ilia meeting her eyes. Because when Ilia met her eyes, the girl’s expression shifted quickly. From gentle to stone. Eyes, hard and grey like granite. Even then they’re beautiful, and Pyrrha can feel her breath catch in her throat. “Pyrrha.”

Pyrrha notes with surprise that Ilia doesn’t say her name with malice. No, it’s something closer to sadness. Like the time apart hurt her as well. Maybe it had. If it had, that meant Ilia still wanted this. Wanted her.

Could she be so lucky?

“Ilia. I’m sorry.” Pyrrha reached for her hand, but drew back at the last second. Physical contact might not be appreciated. She didn’t want to bring Ilia discomfort. Not now. Not ever. “I-” I what? What did she say? How did she express her feelings, make them heard and understood. “didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted.”

Surprise cleared Ilia’s expression some. For a second Pyrrha thought it’d worked. She’d said the right thing. Then Ilia’s expression changed again. Her eyebrows lowered. “Unwanted? When would this happen?”

Pyrrha’s heart stopped. Not the right thing. Likely, not even close. How was it so easy to give advice to others, when all she ever did was tangle her own tongue? “When you kissed me.”

“I’ve kissed you?” Ilia frowned at her. Almost curiously. But her eyes flashed for a brief moment.  Sorrow and pain. “I don’t remember that.”

Her heart didn’t restart. At those words, Pyrrha wasn’t sure it ever would again.

“You must be mistaken,” Ilia continued, and Pyrrha was sure she could feel her heart break inside her chest. It was a feeling she’d felt before. When Jaune had told her he was dating Cardin. When she realized Jaune would never feel the same for her as she did him. But this was somehow worse. Like, every came apart at once. Shattered pieces fell to the floor at her feet. A rushing heat soared through her. Heavy in it’s sorrow, thick as blood. Was she bleeding? She hadn’t been struck, but it felt like she’d been.

Why was this so much worse than before?

Oblivious to Pyrrha’s sorrow, Ilia walked away. Left her to crumble. Pyrrha couldn’t find it in herself to blame her.

On heavy legs, she walked home.

 

Behind her, Ilia watched. It felt like she’d ripped out her own heart when she’d uttered those words. But Pyrrha hadn’t done anything when she’d kissed her. So the only reason for her return, for her words, had to be pity. She’d practically said it herself. ‘I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted.’ No, she had to say them. Had to. It was necessary, she couldn’t be hurt again. Something in her pushed her to follow, though.

Why?

Why had Pyrrha said  _ those _ words?

And why did they not feel like the pity she knew anyone else would’ve given her?

Why did they feel genuine? They felt genuine.

Ilia followed her feet. Instead of running away and hiding, just as she’d done plenty of other times, she walked forward. Out the door.

 

Pyrrha barely made it a block before she felt someone following. Normally, she’d let her training rule what she did when that happened. It’d led her to take a different path home. Or to turn and fight. This time she did neither. Instead she simply stopped. Come what may. She didn’t turn. Not even when the footsteps stopped right behind her. Not until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Small and gentle. Touches too similar to ones she’d received before. Touches she was sure would be over when she walked out that door. Pieces of her heart fluttered like paper in the wind. When her name was whispered, she turned. Ilia stared at her, eyes searching. It almost felt like they were examining her very soul.

“What did you mean? When you said you made me feel unwanted?” The sadness was back in Ilia’s eyes. This time, unhidden. Like she was bearing her soul. It made Pyrrha gasp.

This time she didn’t stop herself from reaching out. She took Ilia’s hand in her own. “I didn’t do anything. Not when you kissed me. Or when you ran. I should have. And I am so sorry I didn’t,” Pyrrha told her.

Ilia nodded, and laced their fingers together. “And if I kissed you now?”

“I would never let you go,” Pyrrha answered without even a beat of silence between question and answer. The sadness in Ilia’s eyes let go. And with it, came something else. Something sweeter that made them glow. Ilia stepped closer and Pyrrha followed. This time, when time stopped, when the earth held its breath, Pyrrha immediately knew why.

Ilia leaned forward, but stopped within an inch of Pyrrha. Still unsure. Pyrrha closed the gap.

Ilia’s lips were soft. The kiss like a hurricane. Fierce and passionate. It tore through her, picking up the pieces of her heart in a swirling wind. They came together and seared themselves together, back in her chest. Grounded by Ilia’s hand on her hip. And Pyrrha knew that grounding would keep them there forever.

When they parted, time stayed. Halted. Background noise empty. No worries. The world theirs. Pyrrha let her head drop, forehead resting against Ilia’s. They were still close. Breathing each other’s air. Occasionally one of them would press their lips together. Multiple times Pyrrha caught herself chasing Ilia’s lips as she pulled away.

It was nicer than Pyrrha could’ve dreamed.

“So, you forgive me?” Pyrrha finally asked after a few minutes. Or was it a lifetime? It didn’t matter, Pyrrha decided. She would spend multiple lifetimes just like this.

“Yes,” Ilia chuckled and moved forward again. But Pyrrha stopped her before their lips could be reconnected. She eyed Ilia. There was an impatient glint in Ilia’s eye. Still, she didn’t move forward.

“Really? Can…” Pyrrha trailed, not wanting to be wrong. She had to be sure. “Can we do this?”

“Do what?” Ilia pulled back, but she didn’t remove either hand.

“Be together. Girlfriends,” Pyrrha said. Was their chance still there? She wanted to ask. Could she keep this? If not, she didn’t think she wanted to continue. Though she already knew she would. Even though it would break her.

But she was already broken. Just by a taste.

Ilia stared at her for a minute. Long enough for her to get worried. Then she moved back in.

“Yes,” Ilia whispered. Then once more, against her lips. “Yes.” And again and again. Against her lips and cheeks. Against her nose and forehead. The word yes was whispered. Like a prayer. Like a promise.

Later that night, it would be whispered again. Loudly. Quietly. In a sweat. In an after image. In a sweet moment. Against skin. Against pillows. Against bedsheets. A prayer. A plea. A promise.

And then in a moment of quiet. Just before dreams. An ‘always’.

They would wake up together the next morning, groggy. Hair everywhere. Their shared smiles would be warm. Pyrrha would link their hands over breakfast. And they'd know.  They'd know that they’d taken their chance. And they’d never go back on it. Not now. Not ever. 

Last night held a promise. And they would keep that promise.

Always.

 


End file.
